Mor'Ithild a Ungoliant
by Amy0Veronica
Summary: One minute I was sun baking by a pool, enjoying the simple pleasures in life; the next I was being reluctantly saved from certain death by a group of beautiful yet cold men with pointed ears that call themselves 'Elves'. (Girl falls into Middle Earth, 10th Walker, Legomance).
1. Chapter 1

**The heat of forever shines down on you, burns you bitter and dry, until you no longer glitter and shine.**

 **Chapter One**

 ** _Lost_ **

The smell of jasmine and freshly cut grass was heady in the air. Lazy afternoon indie danced at my ears.

I moved out of the deck chair and grabbed the Reef coconut san tan oil. I re-oiled myself and sat the bottle back on the side table. I missed and it went skidding across the granite tiles, spilling out in a puddle. "Shit!" I growled and picked it up, setting it back gingerly.

I looked at the time on my iphone. "Gosh, is that really the time?" I groaned.

Only four hours until the parentals came home and saw what a good job I did of house sitting while they were away for the week. I had planned to spend the day cleaning up after the minor party I had there last night, but the sun had been shining in a way that was too tempting to ignore.

So I had put on my favourite Kulani bikini in blush pink, which perfectly matched my Cake Pop – pretend-I'm-not-a-bartender – mani and pedi, and took to sunbaking beside my parents pool.

I calculated the level of mess to the ratio of available time and decided to soak in the sun's rays for another hour before getting down to the grind. "Siri can I have a sixty minute timer?"

"Sixty minutes and counting," the male Siri droned.

"Perfect," I sighed before laying back down.

The hour went quicker than a lazy blink of the eyes. The pounding of Kanye's Black Skinhead blared through my phone in what felt like five minutes later. I groaned and sat up, grabbing the aloe vera bottle and rubbed it into my skin over the gleam of coconut oil – I would have a shower later, or better yet return to the pool after my chores were done.

I stood to walk back to the house, when my laziness came back to haunt me. Having forgot about the slick puddle of coconut oil that I had promised myself to clean up later, it was Murphy's law that I slip in it.

I fell with a heavy crack of of my head against the granite pavement that curved over the lip of the pool; I don't know what hurt worse – the pain or the sound of my skull hitting the unforgiving tiles. I felt myself roll into a plunge of cold water as darkness tunnelled toward me, too fast to escape.

* * *

What's worse than waking up in the wild Bear Grylls style, you ask?

It would definitely be waking up in the wild in nothing but your favourite Kaluni blush bikini, slightly burnt skin well oiled and recking strongly of coconut. If I didn't die from exposure or a Ted Bundy impersonator didn't eat me, I would like attract every wild animal from here to the back end of burke with my fragrant coconut flavour.

My surroundings were greener than anywhere I knew close by in the harsh Australian summer. My town was surrounded by shades of red, with barely-holding-in-there lawns, sucking up every inch of grey water available for them.

The flora and fauna was different than anything I had seen. I remembered my art teacher telling me once that when the English had settled in Australia for a while they would still paint English landscape when attempting to paint the Australian one. So used to seeing their native wilderness, it was hard to adapt.

The trees surrounding me had thick knobbly trunks that meandered every which way, their foliage thick and lush. Everything around me felt so alive and moist; I started to feel the chill in the air immediately.

"I'm going to die, fuck, fuckity fuck!" I pulled at my long dark hair.

A thought occurred to me, a horrible thought that made my stomach curdle – was I already dead? Was this heaven? It was my only explanation past hallucinating from the head trauma.

"Seriously, what the fuck would Bear Grylls do in a situation like this? Probably not turn up to a sojourn in the wild wearing a bikini, for starters… arrrrggghh!" I groaned, stamping a foot.

I wandered forward; all directions looked to have the same level of wilderness, with zero civilisation in sight so I couldn't really go wrong. A cruel thought in the back of my mind which I tried to shut out whispered, 'Oh but it could, forward could be to the den of a mass murderer, behind you could be civilisation…'

There was a big thick stick on the ground with sharp ends. I picked it up and pulled off the smaller branches. Feeling slightly less exposed, extreme emphasis on the word slightly, I moved forward with gritted teeth.

I kept a brisk pace to ward off the chill, but I was still cold. I swatted at bugs every now and again, but thank god there didn't seem to be flies or mosquitos currently – I don't think I would have coped at all; in fact, I would have cracked faster than Britney Spears circa 2007.

But it seemed things were going that way even without the bugs. The longer I trekked without a tiny glimmer of civilisation the closer I got to a meltdown, toddler style. Stumbling across a McDonalds with greasy middle aged workers who didn't speak a lick of English would be fantastic also – weren't they supposed to be everywhere in the world?

I felt like my standards for getting out of here were dropping by the hour – soon I would be praying for a serial killer to find me, if only I could have some sort of chance; I didn't want to die slowly from starvation, thirst and the exposure. It was a horrible feeling being cold without a way to get warm and I suspected that severe hunger and thirst weren't pleasant fates either.

Later on, as the sun got worryingly close to setting, after I had tripped over a rock and scraped my hands and knees, when I truly didn't care who found me as long as it wasn't a wild animal with massive gnashers, I screamed for help at the top of my lungs, over and over.

Nothing happened, no one came; the sun got closer to disappearing and with it any last remnant of warmth.

I started to cry, slightly amazed I hadn't before. They weren't pretty tears either, they were loud and snotty.

And just then I heard it, the sound of something faint, almost like a dull thunder. I yelled for help again. Suddenly as the sound got closer and discernable as hooves, I became self conscious of what I would currently look like to a stranger. I wiped the snot from my face with my hands but I couldn't do much about being naked and coconut oiled, like I was some model for a nature bikini shoot.

Again, it could seemingly get worse, much worse.

Through the trees broke four horsemen in fine clothing like nothing I had seen in this century. It was closer to a movie set in the dark age. They had breeches, leather boots, tunics and leather arm bands- the whole kit and caboodle.

Their clothing didn't hold my attention for long, next was the weapons they were all packing – quivers of arrows, huge sturdy bows, swords and daggers, and that was only what I could make out from afar. I imagined there may have been some concealed weapons also. They seemed to mean business.

The thought of their weapons escaped my mind quickly also, as it was their form which shamefully took up all my brain power. They were beautiful, like something off a runway, only more ethereal.

The one at the front had long pale blonde hair braided at the sides of his temples. His sharp grey eyes took me in with what looked to be distaste. Suddenly they were surrounding me, weapons drawn. I didn't raise my hands, I felt too exposed to do that; instead I wrapped my arms around me.

"Who are you?" the one who had lead them demanded, his voice unforgiving ice, sharp and cold.

"Ya naa re? Re ma' ve ittee?" one spoke in a musical language. It warmed me, though the words were said with disgust, making me think they were an insult.

"Tanya ben dukkoti," another spoke with a laugh. The one I had named as the leader in my mind, as I sensed his dominance over the others, didn't react to the words spoken by his men.

"Please, I don't know where I am," I murmured, cowing under their heavy gaze, mortified and fearful.

"Are you a prostitute after money, or is this a poorly designed trap? I can see no other reason why you would be in a forest dressed as such," the leader spoke harshly, notching his arrow more firmly.

"No, these are swimming clothes. I'm not from around here, where I'm from is like a desert. I don't know how I ended up here, please you have to help me!" my voice quavered, my words sounding insane to my own ears, let alone a group of foreign men- and were they pointed ears I saw?!

Their features remained stony, their weapons raised. I fell to my knees, tears falling from my eyes – they weren't going to believe me.

"F-Fine, but please at least direct me to the nearest town, or I will die out here!" I sobbed.

"There is no human settlement for days, we head to an Elvish stronghold named Rivendell, where someone of your standing would not be welcome," another spoke, his hair a darker blonde, his eyes a dark brown.

 _Elvish?_ I wasn't one to give up easily, but I my emotions were frayed and I knew they would not help me. There was nothing I could say.

"Re navanya maa wethrinaer, mani manka nat' lle nae ú-sui hain thi?" another spoke, looking me up and down.

The leader silenced the others with finger tilted back from the still position he held his bow, cocked with an arrow. There was silence for what seemed an age, and I think I could almost hear the leader's teeth grind.

"You will accompany us, but you will wear a cloak to cover your indecency; if you are truly what I suspect you to be the truth will be revealed and you will not be dealt with kindly," the leader finally spoke, his voice more threatening than his words.

"Lord Althidon, for your feelings of pity, you will face the burden of relinquishing your cloak and sharing your steed," he said dismissively, a cool malice behind his stony features.

Despite what the leader described as pity, Althidon looked like he'd rather give away his favourite knife than have me sharing his huge and imposing horse.

He dragged me up in front of him after I had tightly tied his large cloak around myself. He pushed me forward so that I was touching him as little as possible, so that I had to hold on to his horse's neck to keep from falling off, which from its snorting, it didn't appear to like.

With another foreign comand from their illustrious leader, the horses bolted forward and I gripped the horses neck for dear life with a whimper.

* * *

 **Translations:**

"Ya naa re? Re ma' ve ittee?" - _"Who is she? She looks like a whore."_

"Tanya ben dukkoti." - _"That or an orc lover."_

"Re navanya wethrinaer, mani manka nat' lle nae ú-sui hain thi?" - _"She is too fair to look deceitful, what if things are not as they appear?"_

 ** _Please let me know what you think, whether you enjoy it or not and want another chapter! Thanks._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _Definitely not in Kansas anymore, Toto._

I must have micro slept and started to slide off the horse, because the guy behind me, I think his name was Alf-something or other, grabbed me roughly by the waist and dragged me back up to sit in front of him, shaking me roughly. "Stay on the horse, for the next time I will not help you, and you will be abandoned where you fall," Alf-dude stated, his voice heavily accented. I heard him exhale in what could only be displeasure as I decided to lean against him, as it was more comfortable than hunching over the horse's neck. "What is that smell?" he asked affronted. "I believed it to come from a unique plant, but alas my senses were betrayed by the immensity of its presence," he murmured.

"Er it's coconut oil. It helps me get a tan when I lay out in the sun. It has enough sunscreen to enable me the delusion that when my skin burns I'm less likely to get cancer. It's a wonderful product," I said.

"I wouldn't describe the smell as wonderful. It burns the nose and gives me the distinct urge to drop you from the horse. The only other phrase I understood from your lips was that you suffer from self imposed delusions. It is indeed the most obvious conclusion, it explains your odd garb and speech – are such maladies of the mind common in the race of men?" Alf-dude asked, having shoved me forward, as far away from him as possible, so that I was practically straddling the base of the horses's neck. To put it bluntly, sitting naked in a prickly bush would be a more pleasant sensation on the lady bits.

"I'm not delusional! Jesus Christ!" I cussed, barely dampening the urge to ask to see their manager or whether their industrious leader had a bit more to rub together between their pointy ears. Because if not, it seemed like I was angling towards being submitted to this worlds dark age version of a psych ward.

I was thirsty, but when I had asked for water Alf-dude ignored me, obviously still a big believer in cooties. "I'm the one taking all the risk Alf. My world is much more advanced; we have developed ways to become immune to diseases. If anyone is going to be catching something, it is me from you, not you from me. So please, give me some water?"

"If you have the ability to talk, you are indeed not thirsty enough," one of Alf-dude's comrades growled from his steed beside me. I gave him the stink eye.

Eventually the group reduced their punishing pace to a canter; by then I had lost feeling to the lower part of my body.

I realised they had slowed down because they had reached the perimeter of a trail mounting a stark cliff face. I closed my eyes and whimpered as the horse climbed the sloping trail faster than I was remotely comfortable with; I curled my arms around the horse's neck, Rose's last words to Jack after the Titanic had sunk, "I'll never let go, I promise," echoing in my ears.

After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, longer than the line up for the EOFY's sale at Myer's, but I wouldn't say longer than the wait for a kidney donor, we made it to stable ground.

Once I could bring myself to loosen my death grip around the horses neck I noticed my hands were sweaty and shaking uncontrollably.

There was no path, but the company seemed to know where they were going. The trees, ferns and flowers grew more unrestrained and wild and the land was increasingly uneven as we moved further towards our destination.

Suddenly we were met with a high stone wall and a retinue of guards at the unassuming entrance. They spoke swiftly in that otherworldly and yet strangely familiar language.

The guards were of a similar beauty and had the same pointy ears as my new mates, who believed me to be a prossy instead of the avid sun-baker that I was. Not a supposedly easy mistake to make in the 21st century, but these guys seemed advanced only in comparison to the cave men I had heard so much about with the rage of the Paleo diet.

I was taken to a stone room with only small openings in a pattern along the back wall for light to filter in. I couldn't call them windows as they didn't have glass or fly wire, but all the windows I had seen in Rivendell, both big and small, were without covering from the elements.

From what I had seen so far, Rivendell was resplendent, a vision of polished stone architecture, with beautiful coloured fabrics and meticulously crafted wooden and stone furniture. So I was given the distinct impression that I wasn't a guest when I was escorted into the room, which only contained an old bucket and a rickety looking chair.

They closed the door behind me, the sound of a lock turning, before I could ask whether this was the Elvish version of a prison. I had seen medieval movies that depicted worse prison cells, but the 21st century prisons with their flushing toilets, Austar and cigarette allocations were definitely next level compared to this. The bucket must have been their version of a toilet, but what if it wasn't and I relieved myself and it was only when they came to take me to their leader that I learnt the shameful truth. And I was busting to relieve myself.

The chair wasn't very comfortable after a while so I moved to a corner and leant against the stone wall, watching the beams of light filter through the small windows, big enough for only a bird to escape. I yearned to feel the rays of the sun on my skin but the angle of the setting sun fell short.

"To relieve myself in the bucket or to not relieve myself in the bucket, that is the question," I talked into the air.

I got up and started banging on the door, I decided I was definitely not going to go in a bucket; it had occurred to me that there was nothing to wipe myself with and I didn't want that kind of negativity in my life.

"Hey! Help, I need assistance!" I bellowed through the door.

The door was opened by two guards who I quickly learnt spoke no English.

I gestured at the bucket and made the shrugging motion with my shoulders to hopefully indicate a question. When that achieved no comprehension I hopped around from foot to foot grasping my lower stomach. The looks on their faces were how I imagine the character Lucius Malfoy would react to a muggleborn trying to hug him.

It took the wind out of my sails instantly. In my embarrassment I threw the bucket at them, which wasn't one of my best moments as apparently they didn't look positively on that either, and they removed my bucket and chair.

When they slammed the door shut again I started thumping my fists desperately on the door. If the idea of relieving myself in a bucket had been bad, the thought of having to relieve myself in the corner was positively abhorrent.

I screamed when suddenly my fist alighted in flame for a brief moment, dissipating as my fist touched the wood. It left me feeling woozy and drained and I staggered away from the door, unsure if what I had seen was a figment of my imagination.

My denial didn't last long with the unmistakable sight of a scorch mark on the door where my fist had touched. It definitely hadn't been there prior to my tantrum and resulting fisticuff with the door.

If I had been under the impression that I could recreate the superhero moment of my fist becoming a torch, I would have been bitterly disappointed.

As it was I was wondering whether the usual laws of physics didn't apply here, something like the Matrix movies, and that if I focused hard enough I would be able to bend the walls of my prison with my mind. The resulting efforts only gave me a migraine and resulted in my stomach feeling as if it could burst from holding in my waste.

Eventually the decision of going to the toilet on the floor or peeing my bathers and the borrowed cloak from Alf-dude became a necessary one to make. I knew there was no real decision to make, it was just one of those suck-it-up-and-do-it-or-else moments, where you couldn't really make the decision because it was so debase, but you had to, similar to those 'would you rather questions' that I used to joke about with friends. Like would you rather eat your boyfriend or starve; I would say it would depend on who your boyfriend is. On this occasion it wasn't as simple as deciding to starve, as there was only so long I could hold back my raging bladder from exploding everywhere.

The door opened and I jumped them like a Koala craving a gumleaf. "Please I need to relieve myself," I demanded. It just so happened to be a different Elf who must have understood my breakdown. He spoke over his shoulder in that melodic language and a female elf hurried in with a pot that I recognised as being a chamber pot. They closed the door again and I resigned myself to this being as good as I was going to get.

After half an hour the guards returned and directed me to a large room which was well lit, with a stunning view of waterfalls and mountain sides. The walls were covered with book cases and paintings. I noticed a large fire place with several comfy looking seats. They gestured to a seat and I sat down wearily.

"An oddity to be sure, both in mannerisms and speech, but from another world?"

I did not seem them enter, so caught up in the sight of the flickering flame in the hearth. There were three, all tall and all old in that aura that wisdom provides, yet it seemed only one knew the ravage of time.

He had a long grey beard and periwinckle blue eyes wrought in the creases of both laughter and hardship. A word escaped my lips without thought, as if it had come from somewhere deep within, "Olórin?"

* * *

 **Thanks for the lovely reviews! I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

 **Guest:** I know, girls who fall into Middle Earth usually have some skill or equipment, but not our girl ;)

 **Woman of Letters:** I know sometimes the Elves I read about are just to darn gosh nice and accomodating. Haha yes sexy lingerie would be another survival no-no!

 **Katcameron08:** Oh indeed, I couldn't help but throw that nod in to the series, it is such a great read! I have book hangover after finishing it and can't wait until the next one is out in a couple of weeks :)

 **Topi-Emma:** Happy New years to you, haha I know, I just couldn't help but imagine how Bear Grylls would react to that survival question - how would I survive in the wild if all I had was a bikini?

 **Yasminasfeir1:** Thanks so much for the review, I know I would feel quite exposed with the situation of waking up in the unknown wild let alone in nothing but my bikini. Hope you enjoy this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

_"An oddity to be sure, both in mannerisms and speech, but from another world?"_

 _I did not see them enter, so caught up in the sight of the flickering flame in the hearth. There were three, all tall and all old in that aura that wisdom provides, yet it seemed only one knew the ravage of time._

 _He had a long grey beard and periwinkle blue eyes wrought in the creases of both laughter and hardship. A word escaped my lips without thought, as if it had come from somewhere deep within, "Olórin."_

 **Chapter Three**

I felt intimidated by the immensity of their presence. Power and influence seemed to radiate in the room as hot as the fire behind me.

The male with the crown of gold hair, his deep blue eyes holding mine, frowned. The last male, who had hair of midnight with a circlet of silver resting on his brow, took in the grey elder's reaction.

"How do you know that name when you say that you hail from another world?" Olórin, asked, not a flicker of emotion entering his face but severity.

"I-I don't actually know; it just came to me. I don't have any memory of you or why I would call you that name," I whispered, feeling the tension coil further.

He took a step forward and I took a step back involuntarily, backing towards the fire slightly. I didn't feel like I was that close, there were many logs between me and the open flame, and yet they gasped, moving forward quickly. The grey man who I had called Olórin grasped me by the forearm, his staff in the other hand. I bent to look behind me and noticed the robe had caught alight and was disintegrating quickly, the smell of burning cotton and colouring filling the air.

He grasped the cloak at the shoulders and yanked it from me, dropping it to the floor. The golden man poured a pitcher of water over it, looking up at me before quickly diverting his eyes as he took off his cloak and wrapped it around me as he guided me further away from the naked flame. It seemed like my Kaluni blush bikini was getting the same reception as before.

"Are you harmed?" he asked, his voice like the deep melody of a cello, charismatic and commanding.

"No, I didn't feel any pain," I said.

"The flame must have touched your skin, will you allow me to check, as it may need some salve," the dark haired man said, his voice held a similar allure and strength, one I felt I couldn't say no to.

I nodded hesitantly and sat on the couch he gestured to with his hand. He asked me to lay on my stomach and asked for permission to raise the cloak.

"Lord Glorfindel, would you procure some burn salve and some bandages?" The golden haired man left with a nod. The grey elder moved to look out a window, offering me the guise of privacy.

"There is no damage to the skin whatsoever, not even redness from the heat," the dark haired man said in wonder.

I watched as the grey elder turned back around without my permission and moved forward, not appearing shocked. He moved his hard stare to me. "Indeed I thought it unnatural the way the flames seemed to seek you out. I did not believe you to be standing close enough," he spoke, his voice as cold as the night air, making me feel progressively more unnerved. I yearned for home and wished I could just wake up on the deck chair beside the pool with all of this being a weird dream brought on by heat stroke.

But this was all too real to be something as simple as a bad dream.

"The flames sought me out?" I parroted, my mind going back to the little unexplainable anomaly that occurred with my fist and flames back in the holding cell.

"Prince Legolas Thranduilion reported that they found you in the middle of nowhere, dressed inappropriately to say the least, and that you spoke as if your mental faculties had been lost, but that a common theme was that you believed that you were from another world. I will be honest Lady…"

"Ravi," I provided. At their pause, knowing that it might sound like an odd name to them, I elaborated. "It's a nickname, my birth name is Renata, but no-one has called me that since I was little."

"Lady Ravi," Olórin continued, slowly pronouncing the name rah-vee much like I would pronounce a foreign car manufacturer I had never heard of before, as I pondered on its reliability.

"We planned to send you with the next supply convoy to the nearest human village-"

"But I don't know anything about this world and from what I have seen so far there are more differences than similarities! Please, ask me anything, you have to believe me," I gasped.

"Our intentions were to question you further," he gave a nod, "tell us about your world and how it was you believe you entered ours?"

There was no visible indication that the two males in the room had any empathy for my distress, or that they believed me. In fact, for whatever reason they were indulging my story I didn't feel that it was to help me.

"My world appears similar to yours, in regards to the flora and fauna, but there are no other humanoid species such as Elves. The approximated population of our world is seven billion humans. We live across seven continents that are divided into countries with different languages, cultures, religions and government systems. We are much more advanced than what your race appears to be. We no longer use horses as means for transport, or swords and bows as weapons. We build in metal and glass as we have found ways to mass produce those materials and our medicine has eradicated many deadly diseases and many live past a century…"

I took a breath, noticing that Lord Glorfindel had returned and taken a seat. The three watched me with heavy looks.

"Before I was found and brought here I had been sitting beside a pool, which is an artificial man made water hole. It was something I enjoyed to do, laying in what is called bathers and soaking up the sun's rays. I've thought about it, and I think-" I choked slightly on the words, "I think I died before waking up here. The last thing I remember was hitting my head and falling into the water," I said, waiting in the silence that felt more suffocating than an inferno.

"And you were born in your world?" Olórin asked. It tripped me; I already felt like I was balancing unsuccessfully on a live wire.

"W-what?" I stammered, wringing my hands in my lap. He didn't dignify me with repeating the question. "Yes of course, though I never knew my real parents, I was adopted when I was a baby," I said.

"I see…" he rubbed his beard, turning to look back at the fire. "We will convene and talk to you further on the morrow," he said, "Lord Glorfindel will take you back to your quarters."

I stood when Lord Glorfindel did, my mouth wanting to say something but my mind had stalled. When nothing came to me I nodded stiffly before following the tall golden man.

I was taken back to the same room as before but when I moved dejectedly back through the door, I saw that someone had placed a mattress, or what looked like this worlds standards of a mattress on the floor. It was a lumpy white rectangle with a blanket.

I tried to not feel ungrateful, I could have been sentenced to sleeping on a cold hard stone floor that had probably seen excrement from less fortunate prisoners.

* * *

I was awake for many hours before they deigned to direct me back to the room, though from the limited light filtering through the great windows it was still very early. I hoped my eyes weren't too red that they would know I had been crying.

"Lady Ravi, I trust you slept well," Olórin said as he and his boy band entered the room.

I wanted to say, 'no, I didn't sleep well, rather it was one of the worst sleeps of my life, only trumped by that time I went camping and Timmy guilted me into sharing my tent with him because he forgot the water proof liner in his. If his 'cat stuck in an exhaust crossed with a chain saw' snoring hadn't kept me awake his wild fidgeting sure would have.' But like when Timmy had awoken, looking as fresh and well rested as a daisy and had asked me the same question I put on my best fake smile, most likely looking constipated, and nodded.

I had to remember that I had to endear myself to these strangers who were planning to turf me out to some backwater human settlement. I had the sinking feeling that if this was the living standard of Elves, who looked like ethereal models on a good day and impeccable well dressed and cleanly aristocrats on a bad day, that my quality of life could only reduce further by being sent to a human settlement.

An image of wooden huts in muddy rat infested streets, people dying of the black plague littered in various stages of decay around the place came to me, inspired by movies and books I'll admit, but no less a possibility.

"I feel that it is only by enlightening you to our reasons for keeping you longer than expected, other than the colourful and certainly hard to believe story of your genesis from another world, that we may gain progress in unravelling what you are and why you are here," the dark haired man began, shifting his eyes from me to the breathtaking scene beyond the arched windows.

"What I am? I am human!" I gasped flabbergasted. What did they think I was if not human? A troll? Or a house elf?

"It certainly seems that way at first, but Mithrandir, or as you call him Olórin, has his doubts." He started to pace, his stride slow and steady but lethal in its purpose. "It is due to both Mithrandir's suspicions and my visions, irrespective of your origins, that make us believe that your presence here may have some worth," he said.

The way he said it, whether he meant it that way or not, made me feel like the amount of worth he believed me to have was negligible and untenable at best.

"What visions did you have of me?" I asked, hoping to start there, quite incredulous that one could have visions outside a book or movie. But things had progressed well beyond the realm of the believable, and I would humour them if it meant more answers.

He watched me as if weighing my worth before deciding on whether to divulge his secrets. Mithrandir or Olórin, or whoever he was, sat staring into the fire puffing on his pipe, appearing disinterested with the proceedings. Lord Glorfindel watched me with an unreadable expression, the intensity of which made me look away. It occurred to me that the dark haired one was the only one I didn't know a name – or two – of, but I was too intimidated to ask and hoped it would come out eventually.

He finally spoke, just as the tension felt like it progressed from chaffing to fire-ants-in-my-pants level of uncomfortable.

"Your destiny appears to be entwined with several important figures in our world, to what end or whether it is for better or worse, I can not yet discern. I have not met any one with such an unbelievable history such as your own, and yet you full heartedly believe in it. We are worried of the impact of not allowing you to walk in the path chosen for you, but also if we were to allow you to do so…"

He paused, giving me that weighing stare again. "So for now we will nurture what little I have seen," he looked to Olórin.

Olórin spoke, finally looking away from the riveting view of the fireplace, "We face an evil here in this land and on the morning after you were brought here we established a fellowship to vanquish it. They are the last hope for all free people, and it is in the limited vision that Lord Elrond has of their journey that he see's small glances of you.

The Fellowship will leave to complete a great and dangerous task when the scouts return to report on the proximity of our enemies. This will give us a small amount of time to assess your combat skills and train you further in any areas you may be lacking."

I felt like what a computer must feel like when it short circuited. "Er combat skills? I don't actually have any of those and I'm not very suited for quests against evil," I said, directing my attention to the three seemingly deadly serious faces around me.

"You have no training in combat? None at all?" Lord Glorfindel questioned, deep concern graving lines in his usually flawless face.

"Er no, but I can dance?" At their blank looks I let the word vomit roll. "I used to do ballet, do you have that type of dance here?" The blank looks appeared to get blanker and their frowns more pronounced.

"Question, if I go on this quest against evil, does that mean I don't get sent to some substandard human settlement?"

* * *

Lord Glorfindel organised a lady elf to give me an outfit of breaches and a tunic with a set of sturdy boots. He then took me out to the training fields, where many a handsome elf was training in swords and bow's. I left my bathers on, to give me some bust support but mainly because I was scared that the Elves would burn them if I left them unattended.

I noticed Alf-dude and Blondie, the leader from the motley crew that had brought me here and treated me like a tramp.

I gave them the stink eye, but they were too busy doing really fast fighting moves to notice me. They moved like the wind, flawless in their execution, unable to catch the other out.

I bit my lip, wondering whether that was the standard that was required for the quest, but more importantly if that was the standard of our enemies. If so, I was screwed. I thought that maybe I was to go to help out with cooking or something, nothing too fancy. This made it all seem too real.

"Er so what do you actually want me to do out here Lord Glorfindel? To tell you the truth I don't know how I will go handling things so sharp and deadly," I said, my voice obviously nervous.

A small smile tilted his lips, but it was one of those hard to read smiles, like it could be from humour, but it could also be because he was about to test my mettle and knock me to the ground a lot. It disappeared when I said my next words, "I once nearly lost a finger from cutting potatoes," I said showing him the finger with the scar.

"Lady Ravi I would like for you to show me your dancing skills," he said this with no small amount of poorly hidden dubiousness, "this way I can get a sense of your physical fitness and plan your training," he said.

I made a face.

"I don't think I have ever met someone as expressive as you Lady Ravi, and yet I find myself having difficulty reading you," he said, leaning against a fence and gesturing to a vacant area in front of him.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked quirking my eyebrows, making him laugh.

"I just want to warn you Lord Glorfindel, it has been a while since I pulled some of these moves," I said.

It had been a few years since I tried my hand at ballet, when I decided to give it up to pursue a part time job around school. Mum had been ecstatic I no longer had a hand in her pocket but simultaneously disappointed in my life choices that I had given up one of the only things I had been somewhat decent at - she had probably thought of sending me back to the adoption agency when I got the job at the bar after school, didn't do anything more ambitious than make new friends (as most of my group from school had shifted away to University) and pretty much settled in the small sun burnt town she had hoped I would leave to do bigger and better things. She had always wanted me to reach for the stars but I never had – and now she would have found my body floating in her pool, my unremarkable life cut short, never able to eventually make my parents proud.

My lip trembled and I fought not to cry. I tried to get the images of my parents out of my head before I randomly burst into a fountain of snot and tears in front of one of the most magnificent looking men – er Elf, I had ever seen, cementing Ash-dude and Blondie's belief that my mental faculties had been lost.

I took my shoes off and did some warm up stretches, turning my head away from Lord Glorfindel until I had reclaimed control of my tear ducts – if only tenuously. I watched the elves training around me in wary embarrassment. They may not look like they were paying attention now, but I would bet both my kidneys that once I started jumping around like a rabbit they were going to take a good old look and laugh their heads off. I would have to exile myself to the substandard human settlement and eat rats in a gutter for the rest of my life just to escape the devastating shame.

I got up and walked to the corner of the paved training square, cringing at my imminent mortification. I steeled my resolve, knowing I had still retained some muscle memory skills under the jelly that was once –er slightly less jellyish, and who knows, maybe what my ballet instructor deemed as trash, the elves would believe was treasure…

Yeah right. Maybe I could provide the quest comedic entertainment.

Trying not to pay attention to the wider training area, I moved into some ballet moves, cringing at my rusty technique and the sheer strain on the ghost of muscle groups past.

I stopped after a little while and felt a blush move up to my cheeks as I saw Alf-dude and Blondie standing by Lord Glorfindel watching me emotionlessly. For some reason Blondie unnerved me the greatest.

He had an intimidating air, with his piercing grey eyes and icy blonde hair, braided at the side of his temples, which was much more well kept and sleek than my own. The fact that he was royalty made him even more unapproachable and made my stomach roil with nerves at having his attention. The fact that he was a stunning specimen of masculinity also didn't help.

"I fear that if she is allowed to accompany the fellowship she will be worse than a burden – she will undoubtedly be a liability," Prince Legolas commented, his words harsh with displeasure.

I deflated and looked away, unable to keep his challenging icy stare, knowing I was probably also as red as a tomato and wishing the ground could just put me out of my misery and swallow me whole.

* * *

I hope you like the chapter! I'm sorry for the lateness, I was being a bit perfectionist with this one :p Review and let me know your thoughts.

Alice- Thanks for your review! I'm glad you like it!

Anonymous789- Thanks for your review, I hope you like this chapter!

Leera- I'm glad you like it, I hope I keep a good balance of depicting her view of the world but also the seriousness of her new reality and how it impacts on her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 _I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen_ \- A.A Milne.

I became angry at myself, it had been a long time since I had let a man get the better of me, probably not since I had thrown an extremely robust black spider at Roger Shaw's face in the playground when he had laughed at me for for having Winnie-the-pooh nickers, after I had taken a tumble and flashed myself in front of him and his friends.

Apparently he had been so afraid of spiders that it had triggered a panic attack and the teacher on yard duty had to call an ambulance because he couldn't breathe.

I had felt slightly guilty at the turn of events, but not when I'd gotten in trouble for it and a letter had been sent home.

For some reason, most likely because he was a devastatingly handsome Prince, Legolas intimidated me and made my stomach twist all at once.

I don't think I had ever had such a violent attraction to someone since I crushed on Jake Malone in early secondary school, and the one time he talked to me I had apparently stared at him creepily and sat there like a stunned mullet before stuttering out a 'hello' without answering or granting his request for a pen.

But I was older now, much older and wiser; not to mention I was acne and awkwardness free. Back in my Podunk town I had been considered a catch.

I internally brushed the lint of rejection and shame off myself and took a step forward.

"You speak the truth," I stated, my words steely, as if I was banishing a drunken patron from the pub.

He appraised me with stormy eyes, considering me as if I were a mildly interesting type of fish floundering on dry land.

He was more correct than the politically corrected nursery rhymes of the 21st century, and just as obnoxious with his dictation. But realistically, the current situation was probably on par with Kim Kardashian wandering into war in her Louis Vuitton heels and her waist trainer. I was no warrior and adventurer.

"But your redundant whinging isn't going to make me less of a liability, only your actions. If someone is willing to teach me, I will put all my effort into learning and exceeding your expectations," I said in my most regal voice, channelling both the majestic air of Katniss Everdeen and the calculated malice of Cyrus 'The Virus' Grissom from Con Air.

"I doubt that you have the lifespan to be able to exceed my expectations," he replied loftily, a dark eyebrow raised.

"I have the same lifespan as you," I said, refraining from growling. I was not going to prove his assumptions that I was anything less than as regal as the Queen of England.

"Ah, I see that you are labouring under the misapprehension that Elves are mortal. We are, in fact, immortal and I have had over three thousand years to master my fighting skills," his lips quirked into a self satisfied smirk.

"While those thousands of years look to have increased your ego, they definitely have not taught you how to speak to a lady," I sneered. Even the Queen of England wouldn't be able to uphold her royal manners against this pompous hooligan.

Prince Legolas made an extravagant show of looking around the area, his gaze sliding over the other Elves who were attempting to look like they were not listening to our conversation. Obviously their pointy bat like ears provided them with good hearing, because even the Elves I would consider too far away to hear, were failing miserably at looking busy training.

"Your accusations are false, as I see no lady here," he returned the weight of his darkened grey eyes on me.

My jaw may have dropped, but I quickly regained my equilibrium, "That would explain why you wear no wedding ring," I looked to the empty ring finger of his left hand. I noticed other male Elves wore bands and assumed the custom was the same here as back in my world.

If I had thought the weight of his presence was enough to crush me before, his ire was palpable now. I didn't feel that the metaphor 'I could cut the air like butter' was good enough for the occasion; I felt the consistency of the air was more like trying to cut open a raw coconut and I had definitely just gotten my knife stuck.

I knew it was a low blow. If he was over three thousand years old, he possibly could have had more failed marriages than Elizabeth Taylor if her divorces were extrapolated over that amount of time, especially with his dastardly personality. The female Elves probably flocked to his handsome exterior only to run for the hills when they realised that his insides were nothing more than black tar.

The tension and silence lengthened; I swear the wind almost stopped. Even Lord Glorfindel did not speak.

Finally, Prince Legolas' thunderous facial features changed, but into something worse.

It was a mixture of malicious anticipation and a cold remoteness that I had seen watered down versions of before; It was the face of someone who was about to see someone they didn't like about to crash and burn with humiliation.

"I will grant your wish; I will train you and give you the chance you crave to exceed my expectations," he spoke, his words daring me to back down.

But mumma didn't raise me to be a no good quitter.

I felt like I could easily bet my first born child on the fact that I would bitterly know the true taste of regret in the days and weeks to come, and that I would most likely come to feel like a character off the Blair Witch Project.

I took a deep breath, attempting to hold back the urge to just kick him in the shins and run for my 'hashtag lyfe'.

"I accept your belated offer Prince Legolas," I raised my head, attempting and failing to look down my nose at him.

Along with being a handsome asshole, he was quite tall.

I also couldn't help but notice, obviously in a purely impartial way, as I would study any uninteresting object – that he had broad shoulders which tapered to a thin waist and shapely thighs, gripped by his forest green leggings, all fabulous indications of the lean muscle hidden beneath his clothing.

If I didn't consider my perusal one I would make of any other ordinary organism, such as a tree, I might have been mortified of the amount of body fluids I was going to be showing him – sweat, tears, snot and most likely lots of vomit, if my last cross country run in high school was any indication.

Lord Glorfindel chose that moment to step in and stop my declining mental state.

"Thank you for your offer Prince Legolas, it is most thoughtful. I will also assist in training Lady Ravi," Lord Glorfindel inclined his golden head.

I didn't know whether to feel relieved that the milder mannered Lord Glorfindel would prevent me from receiving injuries not compatible with life, or mortified that another extraordinarily handsome man would bare witness to my less than attractive sweaty and oozing misery.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews and sorry for the delay! My computer decided not to autosave the large chunk of writing I completed for this chapter before it crashed and then I had to try rewrite it and get past the 'it's not as good as the first copy!' block.

Also what do you guys think of the chemistry between Legolas and Ravi? I think there is a complexity to Legolas I really wanted to explore, which was shown more in the Hobbit, but was also seen in LOTR with his dislike toward Gimli in the early days. I read a lot of stories where Legolas is a perfect well adjusted gentleman and though these are great, I want to show some deep complexities in Legolas and what sides of his personality may be drawn out when confronted by a woman like Lady Ravi, someone he at first thought was inconsequential and a little mad, and then told would accompany their journey to destroy the ring with no apparent skills to contribute.

Let me know your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 _"Do you know where you are?"_

 _"I'm in a dream."_

 _"That's right Dolores, you're in a dream. Would you like to wake up from this dream?"_

 _"Yes, I'm terrified."_

 _-Dolores Abernathy, interviewed by Bernard Lowe – West World._

That night I had a vivid nightmare, so life like, yet no more than a cascade of sharp emotions and details, fused together in some poorly reconstructed jigsaw puzzle. It wasn't until I woke up on the floor in a tangle of sheets that I realised that it wasn't real.

They had upgraded me to a nicer room with a window and I staggered to it now, panting and feeling ready to hurl. I sucked in the cool air, trying to find my equilibrium.

The details so stark only moments before were already slipping from my mind like water from a sieve.

I had been in a place where the wind howled and tore at me and I had been crying and gasping, my heart rent asunder. There had been a male that I cried for, his long auburn hair, like the deepest and most passionate of fires, strewn across his pale and seemingly lifeless face. His chest, bared to the elements and caked with dried blood made his form look macabre as he hung there. He wasn't yet dead, but I had feared that it would only be a matter of time.

He raised his head, seeking me out with a heavy glance of startling deep blue.

"I have not lived through all manner of darkness only to fade now. I would not leave you here alone to such a fate," he spoke, his voice barely a croak, but filled with an unyielding strength that filled me with something I had felt long emptied of.

At that point, the ground had started to shake and a roar came from behind me. As I staggered into a turn, terror encompassing me, I had woken up, so violently it was as if I had been spit forth from hell itself.

It was when I started to breath regularly again and had grounded myself to the present by focusing on the tree just outside my window, that I realised my nightdress had gaping holes in several places, the edges scorched and curled as if it had caught alight and disintegrated. I moved to the sheets on the floor and lifted them up, studying them in the moonlight, only to notice similar holes and dark brown scorch marks where the fabric hadn't totally disintegrated.

I dropped the sheets and wandered back to the window, lifting myself onto the stone sill, feeling overwhelmed and fearful of what the dream and the instances of fire meant.

A little later I returned to bed and attempted to get a few more hours sleep, but I could only toss and turn, knowing that my sleep deprived state would handicap me further in a few hours time when I commenced my arduous training.

* * *

I received a knock on the door to let me know that I had half an hour to be at the grounds. The sun was not yet out, but I was expected to be. I let out a long suffering groan that probably sounded like I had a dying walrus ensconced in my room somewhere.

I pulled on the cotton tights and tunic over my bikini, that I had been washing and drying myself, still fearful the Elves would dispose of it if I put it out with my other clothes to be washed. The fact that it was the closest thing to a proper bra and underwear I would have ever again meant I was going to guard it like a great and priceless artefact – because it was.

I trudged down to the the training ground with as much enthusiasm as a prisoner walking to death row. I don't think I had even dreaded having to transport my decrepit great aunt Trudy to her medical appointment in the big smoke four hours away as much as this, and that was saying something, because after four hours in the car with aunt Trudy's special kind of hatred towards everything, especially the individuals conspiring with their dogs to mass poop on her lawn and anyone that wasn't a white middle class family with 3 children impeccably raised by their stay at home mother, it was natural to feel both suicidal and homicidal. Everyone in the family avoided being in any sort of confined space with her but were still against me skiving off transport duties by sharing that I planned to go to Las Vegas to marry my black lesbian lover, almost certainly resulting in her early send off to the crematorium.

For a terrifying moment I wondered if aunt Trudy would turn up here like I did, when she finally kicked the bucket. If she did, mum wouldn't be able to stop me from telling her all about how I planned to get my septum pierced and join an Elvish harem, partaking in many sexual acts with both female and male Elves. Hopefully that would send her off to the next adventure in the life that came after this.

When I finished my march to the gallows and reached the training grounds there was already an assortment of Elves who had probably been dropped on their heads as babies, training in the blue dawn light that signified the first stages of sunrise.

The idea that people trained this early in the morning had felt like something of a myth back home, something that I heard fleeting stories of, but had never seen evidence of due to my hours as a bar wench. I mean once I had stayed back later than the normal 2am closing time, because of a staff party, and as I was driving home I had seen a person running in some worn out trackies, but I had thought he was some criminal fleeing the scene of a stabbing or something.

But looking at these spry Elves doing exercise made me think that just maybe that guy had been an innocent individual going for his morning jog.

The Prince of Darkness was already there waiting, sitting on a rock and sinisterly sharpening a long knife.

"Where is Lord Glorfindel?" I asked straight away.

"I thought you had decided against coming," he looked up from his intimidating knife, watching me thoughtfully.

"I would never give up the chance to be trained by such a great and revered warrior such as yourself," I gave him one of my flirtatious smiles that I had used in the past to get free drinks when I wasn't working.

He merely continued to assess me with cool eyes, probably smelling the insincerity of my sucking up from a mile away. A part of me wanted to take it a step further and prostrate myself and beg him to have mercy upon my unfit soul.

But my pride said no.

"So Lord Glorfindel _is_ coming isn't he?"

Prince Legolas continued to consider me, a small tilt to his lips – whether it was the makings of a smile or a devious smirk, I couldn't tell. "I know not whether his plans have changed. In the mean time we will get started," he spoke, sheathing his knife in a smooth masterful twirl of his wrist. He stood and I again remembered how much of a presence he had. I nodded and with one more longing glance around for a golden head of hair, I followed him into the trees.

He appeared to be a remote individual, often cold and acerbic towards me, but I wondered if there was more to him and that perhaps we had just got off on the wrong foot.

* * *

It appeared that Prince Legolas was continuing on the same foot we had started on. That, or he was merely training me how all others were trained in this world and my previous first world lifestyle did me no favours in assisting me to feel like anything but an unfit victim.

I'll admit I had spent a lot of time fretting over what training with Lord Glorfindel and Prince Legolas would be like; I had this idea inspired from some movies I had seen, mainly GI Jane, Major Payne and the loin cloth and spear toting Spartans from 300.

As usual my expectations were far removed from reality.

"How – long – do – I – have – to – run – for?" I nearly asphyxiated between each word. My body was sweaty and sore and it was probably only half an hour into the day's training.

"This is merely a warm up. We will continue to build up your stamina in the mornings and in the afternoon work on your weapon training. In a week I want you to be carrying weight on your back when you run," he spoke eloquently as he jogged at an obviously subdued pace beside me. I could tell it grated on him that he had to move at what he most likely considered turtle speed.

I eventually had to stop because of a splitting stitch in my side and because I couldn't catch my breath. I knelt over my knees, gasping and grunting like a wild pig.

Prince Legolas himself looked as fresh as a Rexona model. Even his hair was sill perfectly coifed, not a spec of sweat in it or on his skin.

The shame was much worse than that feeling at the gym when you build up the courage to walk into the weigh section only to catch a hot guy's eyes in the mirror, knowing that as you squat in the weight rack, you resemble a life size naked mole rat with moist crab red skin.

"I just need a moment," I gasped.

"I didn't expect such an easy warm up to nearly snuff out your existence, especially after such a formidable and self motivated speech yesterday," he quirked an eyebrow, leaning nonchalantly against a tree, his arms folded across his chest. "I was about to direct us to some steep inclines, but I see I will need to stick to flat surfaces or I will surely be burdened with carrying your body back to Rivendell."

"I will work up to inclines," I stood, putting pressure on the stitch at my side.

"You do not have the luxury of time to work up to inclines Lady Ravi, it could be months before we commence our quest or it could be mere weeks," Prince Legolas pushed off from the trees, regarding me with a hint of frustration before moving off into a graceful jog. I took one more deep breath before taking off after him.

I tried to think of positive things while scaling those inclines, which were more steep than could be described by the benign term 'inclines'.

But nothing helped and I came to wonder if hell was indeed Sisyphus. From where I was labouring, my pain a hard 10/10, my oxygen levels critical and the vision of Prince Legolas effortlessly summiting ahead of me, his blonde hair tauntingly bouncing like a Pantene ad, it seemed a legitimate possibility.

Sisyphus was an ancient King of Greek mythology who was punished and was made to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only to watch it come back to hit him, repeating this action for eternity.

The fact that I was going to be running up these inclines with extra weight soon wasn't lost on me, or the fact that Prince Legolas had been doing such exercise for over 3000 years. It would explain his often cold and impersonal disposition. Perhaps it was hiding a deeply unhappy soul, like the eternally tortured Sisyphus.

* * *

Thanks for all your lovely reviews! I hope you don't feel like we are getting bogged down in Rivendell, but the Fellowship stayed there for quite a while and I really want to build up the fellowship dynamics and depict how Ravi is settling in to a world so alien to her.

little miss BANANNA HEAD- Thankyou I'm glad you enjoy it.

Ivy of Mirkwood - I'm so happy to hear you love it and that you like Legolas :)

Woman of Letters - Thanks for your review! Knowing Ravi, she will make him eat his words, one way or another, but it won't be easy because she seems to get under Legolas' skin quite easily and he doesn't like not having the last word. I think Elves would be quite underwhelmed and wary of human outsiders. Unless they are the Dunedain or traders they would be directed away from Rivendell quite promptly. Currently they are quite wary of Ravi as she represents the unknown and they don't know if allowing her to be a part of the fellowship will be for better or worse.

AppleIsTheScrubLord - Thanks, I hope you like this chapter also!

Yasminasfeir - Thanks for your ongoing support!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 _"Do you have a favourite?"_

 _"Not meant to. But mostly the unloved ones, the unvisited ones. The cases that get dusty and ignored. All the broken and shunned creatures. Someone's got to care for them. Who shall it be if not us?"_ – Dr Sweet from Penny Dreadful.

Prince Legolas believed that Elvish knives, though initially more complex to learn, would be easier for me to wield than the traditional and more heavy broadsword. We started out with wooden knives so I could learn the footwork; he had no qualms whatsoever in jabbing and whacking me with his wooden knives to demonstrate how my poor form would get me killed.

My residual skills in ballet made me a quicker and more graceful study of the moves – well that's what I told myself – a little bit of positive talk could sometimes go a long way.

To Prince Legolas, with the innate grace of the Elvish race, I still probably resembled a lumbering buffalo – and if not for my residual ballet skills, his patience may have been much thinner, and my murder much more likely. His poorly veiled looks of displeasure when I would stumble or not move quickly enough to parry his movements added evidence to this assumption.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" I yelped as he whacked my forearm. I dropped the knives and grasped the offended appendage, which hurt more than the other bruises he had given me so far.

His blows were becoming increasingly heavy handed, but I could still see that he was not using his true strength. In a real fight against him I wouldn't last more than a few seconds at best. Prince Legolas was very strong. He could probably throw me like a javelin to the next town over.

He directed his knife to my unprotected neck. "In a real situation your arm would be removed and I would have sliced your neck open – dead," he spoke emotionlessly.

All I could do was gasp for sweet oxygen, knowing that my arm was going to have a whopper of a bruise tomorrow, in fact it might just drop off.

Lord Glorfindel entered the arena, noticing my hunched and beaten form. "I apologise Lady Ravi, for missing your training session today. Orc activity has increased at the perimeters of Rivendell and I was needed. This may be the case for a period of time until we can ensure they are all removed."

I took a deep breath and stood straight, letting go of my arm so that I didn't look so pitiful. "That's fine Lord Glorfindel," I murmured.

"Shall I escort you back to your room so that you can get cleaned up for dinner?" he asked.

When I realised that instead of responding I was nodding wearily, I spoke, "Yes that would be lovely." Lord Glorfindel smiled, the small movement of his mouth lighting up his already resplendent features.

"Remember to return your knives," Prince Legolas said over his shoulder as he walked away without so much as a 'good job Ravi' or 'see you tomorrow'.

* * *

I attempted to freshen up with the too small bowl of fragrant water and hand towel brought to me, but it just wasn't cutting it. At this point I would need at least a 45-minute shower and all my Body Shop lotions and potions to feel remotely human – and a bottle of Exit Mould if I was really serious about cutting through the grease.

When the water was a murky brown and didn't smell pretty anymore, and I was only .05% cleaner, I conceded, changed into the lovely blue dress left for me and was taken to dinner.

What did I think it was going to be like waking day after day in the wilderness, without even a bowl of fragrant water to wash myself in? All I could think about was the eventual contrast between me and the ever clean Prince Legolas. I would have to maintain a 20-foot radius around him at all times or the shame of my stink would be too great.

The longest I'd ever gone without a shower – before getting stranded here – was on the one occasion that I went camping for two nights. The day I'd returned to civilisation felt almost euphoric, I could still remember that pure and wholesome moment where I shed my muddy and smoky clothes and was made anew under the sweet restorative powers of the shower head.

I hadn't realised that it was a dinner for the members of the fellowship. I was guided to a smaller hall where I saw the intimate setting. Compared to the large communal dinners I'd started to get used to, it was a bit off putting.

I guess I'd already assumed I would receive a similar reception as to what I'd received from Prince Legolas from the rest of the fellowship.

The men at the table all stood, including the devastatingly handsome Prince Legolas, the fire light causing his hair to look like molten gold, his eyes appearing darker, fastened onto my own. I broke away from his gaze and beheld the other faces as I was directed to a seat in the middle, beside two men of smaller stature.

I thanked the female elf that had brought me here and took my seat. The men too their seat again in unison, causing my face to heat up in embarrassment. Such behaviour was alien to me. The most chivalrous thing to have ever happened to me in my entire life, before this moment, was when my friend Jessica had held back my hair as I vomited after too much wine – and Jessica was female.

"Good evening," I spoke out loud, my voice sounding frail even to my own ears. I used a term that I'd heard often around here at this time of day, rather than the usual, 'hi', 'how's it goin? or the even less appropriate 'how's it hangin?'.

"Good evening Lady Ravi, I am Lord Boromir of Gondor," a ruggedly handsome man in his late thirties or early forties with chestnut hair and blue eyes nodded his head.

"It is good to meet you Lord Boromir," I smiled back.

The dark haired grey eyed Strider made a similar introduction. I felt like his keen grey eyes wouldn't miss a thing – I got the sense that he'd be the type to be able to detect a silent assassin fart, he appeared _that_ attentive to his surroundings – he watched me as the others introduced themselves.

"Gimli, son of Glóin, Lord of the Glittering Caves," a stout man with wiry out-of-control facial hair grinned.

"With a wondrous name like the Glittering Caves, I can't help but imagine what such a place would look like," I smiled.

Gimli puffed out his chest in pride, "I would be honoured to tell you more about my home Lassie, the glittering caves are indeed wondrous and a grand example of dwarvish skills in architecture!"

"Dwarvish?" I asked, taking in Gimli's stout body shape in shock.

"Of course, the Dwarves have a rich history of creating spectacular and wondrous fortresses within the caves of Arda," he said with pride, earning a snort of disdain from Prince Legolas.

I tried to keep my shock and awe to myself. Gimli was a real live Dwarf.

The other men: Pippin, Merry, Frodo and Sam, who were beings called Hobbits – something I hadn't heard of before – seemed kind hearted.

As the night progressed I started to feel like the trip wouldn't be all doom and gloom and horrible body odour. With his boisterous laughter and shameless burps, Gimli's presence was comforting. My mother had long ago resigned herself to the fact that my closest friends were unguarded and uncouth individuals and Gimli was the first glimpse of that since I had gotten here.

Merry and Pippin were great to talk to – I felt less like I was the most unprepared member of the group – Pippin was still planning in detail the travel menu which included a meal called elevenses, which came after breakfast and second breakfast but was before lunch.

* * *

I thought I had come to terms with the fact that my life had gone belly up. I thought I had grieved my traumatic passage into another life – murdered by my favourite sun tan lotion. I felt like I'd handled all of that pretty well.

I remember reading New Moon after Edward had ditched Bella in the forest. The chapters had been labelled: October, November, December. I remember wondering how things could be so bad that you literally wanted to write them off into months.

Until now.

I had started to count the days of my endless purgatory in nifty expletives after Day 1 of training with Prince Legolas. It went like this: Crap 2, Backside of Camel 3, Needles in Eye 4, Hot poker up anal cavity 5, etcetera, etcetera…

I felt like Prince Legolas should have seen my major, snotty, and inconsolable breakdown coming from a mile away and aborted his efforts to make my life hell on Middle Earth.

"I don't understand how humans survived on your world," Prince Legolas drawled as he peered down at his immaculate cuticles, his broad shouldered body leant against a tree as I completed squats in front of him. He pushed himself off and sauntered around me.

My body was so beyond hurting, that I couldn't even find an appropriately scathing metaphor for it.

"Arrrgghh!" I finally snapped, taking a flying leap, curtesy of my ballet training. I wrapped myself onto his back in a piggy style hold, only with my arm attempting to choke his wind pipe. "That's it! You are the coldest man I have ever met!"

I lasted what would be considered shorter than the New York second, before I was on my back winded and gasping. Tears ran freely down my cheeks – probably a bit of snot too.

He leant over me, his stare deadly. "Touch me again without my permission and I will end your pitiful existence," he hissed.

I pushed myself onto my feet, staggering away, "Have you ever died and been torn away from everything that you know? Everything that holds the most remote vestiges of resemblance? Nothing on this world is like my own, and I am trying!"

"Your lethargic attempts at _trying_ would be considered less unfortunate if you hadn't been granted participation on a dangerous journey where your incompetence is likely to get us all killed!" he said, his anger palpable. He stalked forward, coming in close.

I shoved my hand against his chest, not succeeding in pushing him back until he realised my hand was alight, singing the front of his tunic.

The flames disappeared quicker than they had appeared.

"So you are not entirely defenceless?" he stalked forward again, shoving me into a tree. "It appears you are as shocked as I by this demonstration. I will advise Mithrandir and Lord Elrond of your sorcery – perhaps it can be nurtured into something useful."

Before I realised what he had said he was walking away, his hair furling in the breeze of his wake.

 _"Oh dear, I thought you believed that I was the the coldest man you had ever met; so quickly does your regard for me fade,"_ a voice as smooth as silk but as crushing as granite on my chest, echoed in my mind. I was alone where I stood in the field, but altogether hunted.

 _"Although, similarly to your prince, I am no man."_

* * *

Argh, it took me forever to be happy enough with this chapter to let it out into the world. Hope it lives up to expectations! They won't be stranded in Rivendell for too much longer, promise *crosses fingers and toes*

Thankyou yasminasfeir1, FreeSpiritSeeker and WendyLeaf for all the lovely reviews, they mean the world to me!

jshaw0264: Thanks for such an awesome review! I really enjoyed how they provided more depth to Legolas' character in the Hobbit. Yeah I have read a whole lot of those stories and they can be disappointing when it goes too far. Please feel free to pull me up if I ever get too 'power gun ho'.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 _Cause once this land was heaven on earth,_

 _green hills were all you could see,_

 _but now it's soot and steal and brick_

 _so it looks more like hell to me_

 _– Penny Dreadful._

Mithrandir attempted to coax another demonstration of 'sorcery' from me.

He instructed me on ways to call forth the flame and when that didn't achieve results he made me meditate daily for hours after my training sessions with Prince Legolas. I was both physically and emotionally exhausted, but I hadn't created even a slither of heat that could be considered unusual.

After the initial failure of my serious meditation attempts, I used the time to rest; I often found myself drifting off into memories of my life Before – not clearing out the cockles of my mind.

"When it occurred during training it seemed to be because Lady Ravi's emotions were unusually heightened," Prince Legolas stated from his place against a tree, sharpening his knives as he watched Mithrandir's frustration mount.

I wanted to swear at Prince Legolas but it would only enable him to look at me from his perpetually high horse.

"Ah, well if you would," Mithrandir nodded at Prince Legolas. He rose to his feet and started to walk towards me.

"What? No I didn't sign up to this! Why is he looking at me like that?" I asked defensively, backing away at the predatory look on Prince Legolas' face.

It made me uncomfortable, but not solely in a fear inducing way. Though he was scary, he was also sinfully handsome.

He regarded me calculatingly as if trying to find the weakest point. "We will try some weapon-less fighting, that never ceases to illuminate your physical incompetence and cause emotional turmoil," he grinned, a challenging glint in his eyes.

"Oh you are so dead. Even if you are a prince – you're a gormless and mannerless one," I spat taking a swing at his perfect face. He ducked effortlessly, a quirk at the side of his lips as if he were enjoying this.

"Your common opinions mean little to me," he smirked slyly, sweeping my feet out from under me. I hit the ground hard, gasping for air.

"I have heard little of what you are the prince of – is it a festering dung heap? I doubt you would be able to manage much more of a kingdom than that," I seethed, taking a running leap to the left and taking a swinging kick at his side.

I didn't reach him and was on the ground again without even having seen him move.

"An Orc is more elegant and well spoken than you," he sneered, regarding me from my place on the ground at his feet.

"I have yet to meet an Orc. Do they look much like you? Oh! Now I know your affiliation, you are the Prince of Orcs!" I laughed, jumping to my feet.

"Enough! You are both no better than bickering children!" Mithrandir moved forward, splitting up what probably looked to be an imminent homicide scene – Prince Legolas' face was fearsome; if looks could kill, I would already be twitching at his feet.

Mithrandir stated he would try a different tactic. Prince Legolas stood to the side watching, arms crossed and a distinctly more chilling glare on his handsome features than at the start of the day. I had the sinking feeling I would be in terminal amounts of pain tomorrow from my training.

Mithrandir gathered a pile of leaves and bracken and placed them in the dirt. At his request, Legolas gathered some bigger pieces of wood. I had a bad feeling about what they were doing, but couldn't help but be distracted by the sight of Prince Legolas bending over and lifting heavy looking logs effortlessly. He quirked an eyebrow arrogantly when he caught me staring.

Without explaining his new angle Mithrandir cast a fire onto the wood and leaves.

"Do you feel an infinity for the flames, Lady Ravi?" Mithrandir asked, his eyes holding mine.

I looked into the fire, the colours mesmerising me. "No," I frowned, "I don't understand what you are trying to prove."

"Place your hands in the flame," Mithrandir demanded.

I looked at Mithrandir, with both eyebrows raised, waiting to see him chortle and say he was joking. He only continued to look more vehement as the minutes ticked on.

I finally spoke, attempting to reason with the insane wizard, whilst wishing I had a more reasonable wizard looking after my welfare – someone like Dumbledore, who rather than asking Harry to do something like put his hands in the fire, would have guided him to those decisions through inaction and manipulation. In the end Harry still made those decisions on his own – more or less. "Er _look_ , I've done a lot of reckless things in my short life, you know, like swimming naked in the river, sending Mr Smith crazy by re-arranging his garden gnomes, but even I am not gullible enough to stick my hands into fire."

"Is this wise Mithrandir? The last thing we need is to lose valuable training time because of a loss of hand function," Prince Legolas said dryly.

I nodded furiously, "I would be even more incompetent on the journey – definitely a bad idea."

"To produce fire, you must be immune to fire," Mithrandir gestured me forward with a tap of his staff to my back.

I stumbled forward; the bat shit crazy old man had a little more oomph than I thought possible.

I gingerly placed a pinky finger towards the flame, holding Prince Legolas' gaze. He looked tense, but beyond that I couldn't discern any emotions beyond his cold disposition.

The heat didn't hurt so I placed the tip of my finger within the flame, only to feel a pleasant sensation. With a wave of Mithrandir 's staff, the flames roared larger engulfing my arm too quickly for me to pull back. I watched in morbid awe as the sleeve of my cotton shirt disintegrated under the heat of the flame, but all I felt was warmth.

It was as if I was within a trance – I wanted to be within that fire which burnt so brightly, as if it were calling to me with its luminescence.

 _"Why don't you step forward, you have never been afraid of a little heat before,"_ he whispered, his voice rich and heady.

The flames roared taller and wider, and rather than try to escape I took a step forward and let it engulf me, hearing a yell beyond the hiss and crackle of the raw heat.

I opened my eyes, trying to gather my bearings. Had I really just thrown myself from the frying pan into the fire? Like literally?

But all I saw was the cliff face I had visited once before, which held the auburn crowned god with the deep sapphire eyes.

On this day, the sun was at its peak, the sheer heat seeming to beat down upon him. His auburn hair was matted and dulled by crusted blood, his eyes blood shot and his mouth chapped, the corners filled with white mucous. He looked to me with yearning, pain weathering deep marks in his face. He gasped, the sound seeming to cost him dearly, "water, please."

I staggered forward, realising I held a bowel of water in my hands, nearly sloshing it in shock. I held it to his lips.

"How can I free you?" I asked, my words warbling with emotion. I didn't know this man, but I felt like I did.

He paused in his desperate swallows, turning his sharp eyes to me, his neck cracking from the strain of the angle. His face was empty of all emotion, even the pain.

"You need not, already I am nothing more than bone and amber," he whispered, his words hollow and lifeless.

I awoke with a sharp breath, realising I was being jostled in none other than Prince Legolas' arms, what looked to be his cloak wrapped around me.

I didn't know what to be more mortified about, the fact that I felt naked under Legolas' cloak, the fact that he would have seen me naked – more naked than when he first picked me up from the back of burke, or that I was in his very strong and capable arms.

His profile was very becoming from this angle and distance. I felt like I had gained front row seats to my own perve show.

Mithrandir walked next to us. "What happened?" I set my angry gaze on him first.

"What I expected, it seems," he spoke, his eyes in the distance as if trying to work out the inner mysteries of the world.

"What does your confirmed expectations tell us?" I asked, my voice slow and sharp. I could easily see myself committing wizardcide. He was infuriating.

"I do not yet know," he murmured before he walked off into a different direction.

"Argh!" I yelled, forgetting I was in Prince Legolas' arms.

"Wizards rarely show their hand, they have a great deal of pressure on their shoulders, especially in these dark times," he spoke.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, trying to calm myself down, knowing that Prince Legolas' arms, while very beautiful, were like steal traps and wouldn't allow me to escape on my mission to slay the wizard with my bare hands.

"To see Lord Elrond," he spoke, raising an eyebrow at my poorly concealed anger and murderous intentions.

"I can walk," I growled. He didn't comment but let me down with what I would consider only mild exasperation. "Annnnd I'm not going to see Lord Elrond!" I said before darting away.

His face instantly went all code black on me.

I ran – struggling to keep the cloak from billowing open and flashing some poor innocent elf – and the hallway was unfamiliar, the sound of my pursuer's boots closing in behind me.

As I rounded the corner I nearly ran over a redheaded dwarf – "Gimli!" I yelped, "You have to help me!"

He instantly became alert, like a fox honing in on a rabbit, "What is it lass?" he yelled, probably expecting a hoard of Orcs chasing me from the way I was reacting.

I moved behind him as Prince Legolas stopped before us, "Prince Legolas is trying to abduct me and take me to Lord Elrond against my will!" I scrambled, hoisting his cloak more tightly around me, as it slipped down my shoulders.

"Are you _really_ doing this Lady Ravi? You are acting worse than a child," he spat, coming to a halt in front of Gimli.

"A child? Mithrandir pretty much tried to roast me like a piece of mutton and and –" I realised with horror that I was naked and that meant my Kulani bikini, my only possession from my world, _had_ been roasted in the fire.

I broke down, tears bubbling over my cheeks and keening wails churning from my mouth, transforming Prince Legolas' and Gimli's fearsome countenances into that of poorly veiled unease so quickly, they probably suffered from whiplash.

"Ye made the lass cry!" Gimli roared, looking to Prince Legolas accusingly.

"I will not be held accountable for her seemingly constant emotional outbursts!" Prince Legolas seethed, gritting his teeth.

"My bikini got incinerated in the fire! That was the only object I had from my home!" I gasped in between tears.

Prince Legolas' eyes caught my own, "you mourn that slip of pink material we found you in?" he asked incredulously.

"Wouldn't you if it was the only possession from the home you would never be able to see again?" I moaned.

"No, I would likely mourn my horrific judgement if it was the only object I thought to bring," he said callously, staring me down. In general Prince Legolas was a formidable sight, but when he fixed me with his gaze for any prolonged period of time it made me feel overexposed.

I couldn't think of anything biting enough to throw back at him other than a fist to his perfectly masculine and alluring face, but he wouldn't allow me even that small triumph.

So I spun on my heel and walked away, hoping Gimli would block him from following me.

* * *

The next day I was granted a reprieve from training with Prince Legolas, which I had tossed and turned all night dreading.

Mithrandir had wanted to spend more time attempting to invoke my 'talents'.

But to everyone who was present – Mithrandir, Lord Elrond, Prince Legolas and Lord Glorfindel's – building frustrations, I couldn't even summon a flicker of flame.

Mithrandir got me to place my hands in flame and attempt to take them with me when I moved, but it only happened once when the flame caught the fabric of my shirt alight. Once the fabric was burnt away, the flame didn't move with me at all.

"Maybe as long as I have enough burnable fabric or tinder strapped to me I can become a human torch to assist with lighting our way?" I asked innocently, covering my mounting frustrations with sarcasm, which none of them seemed to get.

The silence following my extremely helpful idea was tense. It was broken by a rider reaching us. He pulled up beside Lord Elrond and spoke quickly with him in elvish.

Lord Elrond turned to the others, cutting me out of their circle, and started a conversation in elvish.

I crossed my arms and sighed. They stood in a loose circle in their little mother's club, all with hair much longer and more lustrous than my own – even Mithrandir.

Finally, they broke apart. Lord Elrond gave me the short version, obviously intimidated by my pissy glare, "the scouts have returned and are able to give us a detailed information on the routes. The fellowship will leave in the next few days to make the most of the report."

Lord Elrond turned back to the others and I allowed my face to morph into my signature wrinkled nose grimace, which I wiped from my face when I noticed Prince Legolas watching me.

* * *

Read and Review!

Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews for last chapter! They mean a lot to me :)

I'm sorry for the lateness of the chapter, I had some personal stuff going on and lost my mojo for a bit and though this was pretty much completed I couldn't let it out into the world until I was feeling more on my 'A game' and could give it the last read over haha

And yay, they are commencing their journey soon!


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